Frank Bridge Gargoyle (1928) for piano solo

The last original solo piano piece that Frank Bridge wrote [1] is usually regarded as his ‘harmonically most advanced piano work.’ This short piece, lasting about three minutes, is certainly one of the hardest of composer’s works to come to terms with.  

Gargoyle was composed in at Friston, Sussex during July 1928. It was given the title provisionally: the manuscript has a question mark against the name. It was rejected by his publisher Boosey and Hawkes: ‘the advanced bitonal procedures being [apparently] an uneconomic proposition’. It was returned to the composer and placed in an envelope: it lay unheard until 1975, when the pianist Isobel Woods performed it on 21 December 1975 at a Glasgow University Annual Conference of Research Students. It was given its first concert performance at the Queen Elizabeth Hall by Richard Rodney Bennett on 31 January 1977. The score was edited by Paul Hindmarsh and duly issued by Thames Publishing the same year.

It is perhaps easiest to follow Jed Adie Galant (The Solo Piano of Frank Bridge, 1987, Thesis) and regard ‘Gargoyle’ as being ‘essentially a bitonal or perhaps even atonal, two-part invention in ternary form.  Bitonal typically means music written in two keys at once, played simultaneously. Ternary form usually means and ABA structure. However in the present case the form is not obvious to the causal listener.  Finally, an invention is a two or three-part work for keyboard that is designed for technical proficiency rather than public performance. The most famous examples are Johann Sebastian Bach’s Two and Three Part Inventions and Sinfonias BWV 772–801.

Calum MacDonald in the liner notes for Peter Jacob’s recording of ‘Gargoyle’ suggests that the music is an ‘astonishing, eldritch, (weird, uncanny) [and] sardonically witty piece’.  He notes the ‘spiky, angular melodic material, bitonal harmonies, frequent biting dissonance and stark, uncompromising textures’. He concludes by suggesting that this is ‘...a brilliantly vivid impression of some scuttling, sarcastic, impish being.’

According to Anthony Goldstone in the programme notes for his recording of the work, ‘Bridge's transformed musical language was eminently suited to suggest a grotesque, grimacing figure, and an alarming, ironic mood is instantly set. Jagged motifs, fanfares and a violent 'curse' give way to a pitiful central song; after a modified reprise the coda quotes a sardonic version of the song and a final violent outburst melts into a Scriabinesque haze.’

Yet in spite of the bitonal procedures, its largely atonal mood and the impressionistic feel, there is certain intangible something to ‘Gargoyle’ that makes this piece equally a part of Bridge’s canon of piano music as the salon pieces of the Edwardian years.

Frank Bridge’s ‘Gargoyle’ is currently available on three recording, although not all of them may be easily obtainable:-

Frank Bridge Piano Music Vol.III, Mark Bebbington SOMM CD0107

Frank Bridge Complete Music for Piano Volume 1, Peter Jacobs CONTINUUM CCD 016

Britten Resonances, Anthony Goldstone DIVERSIONS 24118

For immediate hearing there is a YouTube file which also displays the score. 

Notes

[1] One further ‘original’ piano piece did appear from Frank Bridge’s pen – Todessehnsucht (Come Sweet Death) was an arrangement of a piece by J.S. Bach for A Bach Book for Harriet Cohen published in 1931 and given its first performance by the dedicatee on 17 October 1932 at he Queen’s Hall. 

Thanks to Britain Express for web-photo

Ignaz Moscheles: New Year in Edinburgh 1828

I do not apologies for my continued interest in Ignaz Moschles (1794-1870): he is one of the most significant characters in European musical history. The fact that he spent a considerable amount of time in the United Kingdom makes him of importance to all historians of Victorian musical endeavour.  

In 1828, while people were still wishing each other ‘a happy new year,’ Ignaz Moscheles arrived in Edinburgh. Someone had found him lodgings in Frederick Street, and curiously, he was ‘much struck by the ‘curious specimens’ of architecture’ that he saw there. I guess that it is strange to find such discussions in a musician’s diary.

EDINBURGH, 3^rd January—Yesterday's walk through the streets was a series of surprises. As I looked at the old houses, consisting in some instances of sixteen stories, inhabited by the poorest families, renting single rooms, each with its dimly lighted window, I seemed to look at a feeble attempt at illumination. Standing on the viaduct [1] which connects the Old and New Town, I had these old houses to my left, on the right, the handsome Princes Street, and the whole of the new quarter, now in the process of building, which is to consist of a number of crescents, squares, and streets, filled with palatial houses, built of freestone. Such buildings are to be seen elsewhere, but Princes Street is certainly unique in its way; there is a long row of houses on one side, intersected by sloping streets, from which you get a view of the Frith of Forth, while the opposite side opens to your view Edinburgh Castle on its rock, to which you ascend by a terrace garden. As I was taking my evening stroll, I saw a party of Highlanders, kilt and all, coming off guard. They marched down from the Castle and passed close by me, regaling my ears with genuine Scottish music of drum and fife’. [2]

‘Our lodgings in Frederick Street, which were taken for us beforehand, were curious specimens of architecture. One peculiarity consisted in a raised ground-floor, that ran under the neighbouring house, but disconnected with any staircase leading to the upper stories. The next house that, on the contrary, had no rooms on the ground-floor, and the visitor, after mounting a staircase, found a bell, which secured his admission to the first story. House doors and steps were quite open; many other houses were constructed on this curious principle."

The success of this winter expedition, undertaken by Moscheles for professional purposes, was seriously imperilled by an Italian Opera Company [3] which had forestalled him, and he was obliged to put up with a third-rate orchestra, got together any how from regimental bandsmen ; the Highlanders, with their bare legs and kilts, being the poor substitutes for a well-trained orchestra. The concert room was only two-thirds full, but Moscheles, in his fantasia, the ‘Anticipations of Scotland,’ created great enthusiasm; and the newspapers, one and all, condemned the apathy shown by this poor attendance at his concert. This appeal to the good sense of the Edinburgh folk had its effect, for the two next concerts were filled to overflowing.

Notes

[1] Old North Bridge built in 1763 and demolished in 1894 when the current North Bridge was constructed by Sir William Arrol.  The new Bridge opened in 1897.

[2] No mention of the bagpipe; that was to come later.

[3] However, the Italian Opera were not performing on the first night of Moscheles recital. Caledonian Mercury, Thursday, January 10, 1828

Deems Taylor: Suite, Through the Looking Glass

I know that Deems Taylor is not British, but I feel that the new release of his Suite, ‘Through the Looking Glass’ on the Naxos CD label is so important that it deserves a little bit of creative license. Besides there could be no-one more British than Lewis Carroll! I have been helped in this short essay by the programme notes devised by Felix Borowski and  Deems Taylor himself.  I hope to write some more about Taylor and this piece in later posts.  

In spite of a course of musical lessons from a certain Oscar Coon, Deems Taylor was a self-taught composer.  His earliest achievements were in journalism where was a reviewer for the New York World. He resigned from that post in 1921 to concentrate on compositions. The Suite ‘Through the Looking Glass’ was originally written during the Great War – 1917-19 and was then scored for flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon, horn, piano and strings.  This arrangement was first heard at a concert of the New York Chamber Music Society on 18 February 1919.  After this the composer rescored the work for full orchestra and it was heard in this form at a New York Symphony Orchestra concert under Walter Damroach on 10 March 1923.  

The composer wrote in the programme notes that ‘the suite needs no extended analysis. It is based on Lewis Carroll’s immortal nonsense fairy-tale, ‘Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There,’ and the five pictures it presents will, if all goes well, be readily recognizable to lovers of the book. There are four movements, the first being subdivided into two parts.’

The opening movement begins with a ‘Dedication’. Deems Taylor has musically described the author’s preface to the work – ‘Child of the pure, unclouded brow and dreaming eyes of wonder!’  This leads straight into ‘The Garden of Live Flowers ‘which is descriptive of the Looking Glass Garden flora which spoke to each other. The next movement is a little bit more sinister. The ‘frightful’ beast the Jabberwock is described. Here a little march heralds the approach of the hero.  The ensuing fight is musically represented with a short fugue.  Taylor has noted that ‘his vorpal blade (really the xylophone) goes ‘snicker-snack’ and the monster impersonated by the double bassoon, dies a lingering and convulsive death.’  

The third movement is The Looking Glass Insects. The composer has cleverly portrayed all these ‘favourites’ - the Rocking-Horse Fly, the Gnat, the Bee-Elephant, the Snap-Dragon Fly and the Bread-and-Butterfly. Deems Taylor has suggested that there are several themes running through his movements but advises against trying to allocate theme to fly!   Finally, the last movement is a brilliant portrayal of The White Knight.  Taylor has made use of two themes here; he suggests that ‘the first [is] a sort of instrumental prance, being the knight’s own conception of himself as a slashing dare-devil fellow.  The second is bland, mellifluous, a little sentimental –much more like the knight he really was.’

Deems Taylor’s Suite, Through the Looking Glass has been released on NAXOS 8.559724. However, if you cannot wait to purchase this, the music is available on YouTube in an early recording.  Part I and Part 2

Charles Villiers Stanford: Festival Overture in B flat

I recall a well-known conductor once telling me that one of the hardest things to do is to write about music that one has never heard: and with this I totally agree, having tried it a number of times. However, what can be interesting is to read tantalising accounts of music that has disappeared from the repertoire – and because the score/manuscript has been lost, will never be heard.  The main justification for this is twofold – firstly it allows the listener to gain more contextual knowledge about the composer in question and secondly it may spur someone to look for and maybe even discover the ‘lost’ work. Who knows?

Charles Villiers Stanford’s Festival Overture was composed around 1870 [1] and was given its first performance in the Shire Hall at the Gloucester Three Choirs Festival on 6 September 1877, conducted by Charles Hartford Lloyd.  It was subsequently performed at the Crystal Palace on 17 November of that year, conducted by August Manns.  The manuscript has been lost.  The reviewer in the Musical Standard wrote:-

“The performance of the seventh Saturday concert contained, as usual, some works which had not been previously heard at Sydenham, the novelties being C[harles] Villiers Stanford’s Festival Overture (written for the Gloucester Festival lately held [1]), the scene of Isolde’s death from Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde, and the ballet music from Mose in Egitto ... [2]

Mr Stanford’s overture is rather disappointing to those who watch the career of this rising young English composer, not much on account of any lack of constructive skill, but simply because inventive power appears, to a great extent, to be wanting.  Mr. Stanford masters the technicalities of his task with ease, and his method of scoring proves him to be quite at home in all matters appertaining to the treatment of the orchestra. But the themes of his overture do not display much originality, nor are they attractive in themselves, which leaves all the commendation we can bestow upon the production for the ingenuity it undoubtedly reveals. The tone of the compositions hardly appears to warrant the fact of its being written for a festal occasion; but this, after all, is a mere matter of opinion.”

CRYSTAL PALACE CONCERTS  Standard 26 Nov. 1877

Jeremy Dibble gives some interesting information about this work in his book Charles Villiers Stanford: Man and Musician. He notes that Hubert Parry had gone to Gloucester especially to hear this work.  In his diary he [equivocally] wrote ‘’It is better than the ordinary run of such things well enough scored; with plentiful use of brass- and figures of little significance much used, rather made up I think altogether.’ CHHP Diary 6 September 1877.

Dibble also observes that the analytical notes written by George Grove suggested that ‘the spirit, rhythm, and power over the Orchestra which characterise this interesting work, augur well for Mr. Stanford’s artistic future, and encourage us to look for more orchestral works from his pen’.

Certainly this last wish was granted, and we are fortunate in having the vast majority of Stanford’s orchestral compositions available on CD or MP3.

NOTES

[1] Jeremy Dibble suggests that this work was composed c. 1870 whereas Paul Rodmell concludes that it was in 1876.

[2 Mose in Egitto (Moses in Egypt) is a three-act opera written by Gioachino Rossini to an Italian libretto by Andrea Leone Tottola, which was based on a play by Francesco Ringhieri, L'Osiride, of 1760. It premiered on 5 March 1818 at the recently reconstructed Teatro San Carlo in Naples, Italy. [Wikipedia]

[3] Other major works at this concert included Robert Schumann, Symphony No.3 in E flat ‘Rhenish’ and Beethoven’s Piano Concerto in C minor No.3.

Another Short Handelian Anecdote: A Duel

Not many of the great composers have gone down in history as having taken part as one of the principals in a duel. Among them, perhaps this honour must be awarded solely to Handel. The cause of this affair was to be found in one of the curious customs of his day.

In the early part of the last century it was the custom for the director of an opera to play the accompaniments on a harpsichord which had its place on the stage. Distinguished personages who were present often claimed a seat on the stage and felt free to interpose a running fire of audible conversation and comment. This is now relegated to that part of the audience who have little musical understanding and less of good manners.

In the early part of Handel's career he was associated with a composer named Mattheson, [1] a man of talent, but of no great depth, but from whose writings we may catch some enjoyable glimpse of the customs of his time. On the occasion in question, in Matheson's opera of Cleopatra, the composer was acting the part of Antony, and Handel was seated at the harpsichord. When Antony died, early in the opera, Mattheson came into the orchestra and desired to take Handel's seat as director. There was some excuse for this wish as Mattheson had been the regular director of the opera. But Handel, with that irritability which characterized him later in life, crustily refused to give up his place, whereupon a violent quarrel ensued, and as they were leaving the theatre Matheson gave him a hearty slap in the face. Handel drew his sword, Mattheson defended himself, and a duel was fought then and there. Luckily, perhaps, for our musical literature, Mattheson's sword was broken against a metal button on his opponent's coat, and the honour of each was vindicated! Soon after, the two composers were at peace and hearty good friends again. This was a good example of a discord, prepared and resolved.

NOTES

[1] Johann Mattheson was born in Hamburg on September 28 1681 and subsequently died there on April 17 1764. After a general liberal education as a law student his decided musical talent was developed by Braunmuller, Pratonus, and Kellner. At an early age he sang, composed, and played the organ and harpsichord. He entered the opera chorus 1690, and between 1697-1705 sang operatic tenor roles. He wrote at eight operas including Cleopatra. In 1705 he became tutor in the English Ambassador Sir john Wich’s family.  From 1715-28 he was musical director and cantor, at the Hamburg Cathedral.  In later life he suffered from deafness which led to his retiral from the Cathedral.  

A Short Handelian Anecdote

It is good policy for a singer to keep ‘on the good side of’ his accompanist. A really fine accompanist is a ‘rara avis’. Besides the technical skill necessary to a soloist, an accompanist must have the finest musical feeling and discrimination, and at the same time sacrifice himself to the interests of the singer.

And oftentimes the accompanist has to shoulder the sins of the singer. It is an easy way to relieve one's self from the blame of a ‘bad break’ by charging the fault to the accompanist. A singer once tried this with Handel, and declared that if Handel didn't accompany him better he should jump over onto the harpsichord where the player sat, and smash it. Said Handel: "Let me know ven you vill do dot, and I vill adverdise id. I am sure more beoble will come to see you shump as vill come to hear you sing."

The singer didn't jump.

Gordon Crosse: The New World (1969)

I have never been able to read any of Ted Hughes’ poetry without seeing a dead sheep in my mind’s eye: it was something to do with one of the images (page 42, opposite a poem entitled ‘The sheep went on being dead’) in his book Remains of Elmet (1979).  I guess that this somewhat morbid image sums up the darkness of much of Hughes poetic output. However, praise where praise is due: there is nothing of the rotting carcasses in these poems set by Gordon Crosse in his excellent The New World: Six Poems by Ted Hughes. In fact, these poems were written especially for the composer. The liner notes state that they have not been separately published without the music –however, I have checked the Collected Poems (2003) and discover that they are included there in the ‘Uncollected (1971-1973)’ section. Additionally, there are some discrepancies between the text in the book and those published in the liner notes. For example, ‘When the star was on her face’ is given in the book and ‘When the star was on her brow’ in the song. The track listing gives ‘I said goodbye to the earth’: the Collected Poems omits the word ‘the’ as does the printed poem in the liner notes. However, the singer includes the word ‘the’! Not serious stuff, but it makes one wonder if there was a new rescension of these poems when they were published.   

There is depth to these words, and considerable bleakness, however, every so often there is a flash of light – of hope. Appropriately, this work was written in 1969 the year that man landed on the Moon.

I was very impressed by the music. As Peter Aston has noted, the composer has managed to find a musical equivalent for every emotional nuance of the text: Crosse has created a magical sound world that truly compliments the poetry. Without a perusal of the score, it is impossible to analyse the form of this cycle –however with just a couple of hearings it is clear that the work is tightly knit. The musical texture at times feels Spartan. Nevertheless, there are moments of considerable effusion and drama.  This work is another ‘classic’ example of why Gordon Crosse should hold a far higher place in the pantheon of British composers than has so far seems to have been the case. ‘The New World’ was commissioned by Lord Dynevor and is dedicated to Meriel and Peter Dickinson. The work was first performed at the 1972 ‘Three Choirs Festival’ in Worcester.  

The Stevie Smith Songs can be heard on the Heritage Label (HTGCD240) with Meriel Dickinson and Peter Dickinson. 

Elisabeth Lutyens: En Voyage –suite for orchestra.

Introduction

Much has been written about the relative unapproachability of Elisabeth Lutyens’ music. I have often told the story of how hearing a performance of her O saisons, O châteaux! (1946) put me off her work for nearly thirty years. I felt that it was the most appalling piece I had heard up to that time. However, a few years ago I got a surprise: I bought a DVD of British Transport Films. One of these attractive pieces of ephemera from the nineteen-fifties was an advertising ‘featurette’ for the Midlands entitled The Heart of England (1954). It was not until watching the film and being impressed with the ‘score’ that I wound back the disc and discovered that the music was by ‘Twelve-Tone Lizzie.’ Now all artists have to make a living: Lutyens used the medium of films to augment her income. Yet, whilst watching this ‘bucolic’ film, it was hard not to imagine that the ‘lady doth protest too much’ with her condemnation of the ‘cow-pat’ school of music. Any of that happy band of ‘clod-hoppers’ would have been delighted to have penned this attractive and picturesque commentary on one of many beautiful haunts in England.  

Elisabeth Lutyens tended to repudiate her ‘light music.’ Nevertheless, there are over a hundred film scores, many of which feature ‘traditional and approachable’ music rather than dodecaphonic explorations. Furthermore, there are sundry examples of ‘light music’ dotted throughout her catalogue.

In 2007, Lyrita Records gave listeners a surprise. They released an excellent sampler of ‘bon-bons’ with the John Masefield-inspired title of A Box of Delights. This featured works by Cecil Armstrong Gibbs, Granville Bantock, Phyllis Tate and Samuel Coleridge Taylor. Amongst these delicious gems was short suite called En Voyage by Elisabeth Lutyens.

Composition &Content

The years 1943/5 called forth a number of disparate works from Lutyens’ pen, however the style of much of that period’s production was, in her terms ‘tonal.’  There were the film scores for Jungle Mariners and Bustle for WAAFs.  She wrote a suite entitled Proud City in honour of London, which had ‘come through’ the Blitz.  Art music included the Petite Suite and the Divertissement for percussion and strings.  Lutyens also completed the important Chamber Concerto III for bassoon, strings and percussion –which is a serial work.

En Voyage was composed in 1944 as an orchestral suite; however, it appeared to languish before the composer ‘re-discovered’ it. Some years later, it metamorphosed into a Divertissement for double wind quintet.  Meirion and Susie Harries in their A Pilgrim Soul: the Life and Work of Elisabeth Lutyens (1989) have suggested that ‘Liz was pleased with it [En voyage] or at least felt that it was serviceable’

The work was meant to be a musical picture of a journey from London to Paris via Dieppe. In those days, there was no tunnel and all passengers had to cross the English Channel on board one of the many ferries.  There are four short movements in this suite – ‘Overture: Golden Arrow’, ‘Channel Crossing’, ‘Yvette: la Dieppoise’ and ‘Paris Soir: City Lights’.  According to Harries & Harries (1989) Lutyens proposed a fifth movement which would have been entitled ‘Flanders Fields’. However, this would have implied ‘a devious route between London and Paris’. This ‘sentimental’ section was never composed.

The first movement, ‘Overture: Golden Arrow’ has a softly dissonant introduction, which suggests the train beginning its journey from Platform 2 at London’s Victoria Station. However, this is not developed. Soon, a largely ‘mock-Tudor’ mood is introduced. Lutyens makes clever use of woodwind tone-colour in this section. This part of the movement is certainly not a description of the train journey but reflects more on the rural aspect of the countryside through which the Golden Arrow is speeding. Pleasant ‘songs and snatches’ topple over each other: delightful ‘pastoral’ flute and oboe melodies are characteristically supported by strings. Then the composer recalls the subtitle of this ‘Overture’ – there is a short section that nearly approaches ‘rhythm on the rails’ before a recapitulation of the ‘landscape’ themes. The movement closes with a reference to the opening ‘train noise’ passage and, after a short codetta, Lutyens brings the train to a halt at Dover Maritime Station buffer stops.

The ‘Channel Crossing’ is hardly a major seascape in musical terms: this is not Debussy’s La Mer or Frank Bridge’s The Sea. It actually represents a rather ‘calm and prosperous’ voyage across La Manche: maybe there is the odd ‘squall.’ The music begins with a few bars of softly dissonant, brassy music. This is followed by a rumble in the bass. Then a catchy melody, almost nautical in character, takes over in the strings leading to a short climax before the music subsides. A bassoon is heard muttering a short phrase in the depths.  Lutyens presents a lovely string tune tune, however the brass is always threatening in the background. There follows an interlude with another ‘jaunty’ melody, before the movement nearly comes to a complete halt. There is then a recapitulation of foregoing themes including the ‘jazzy’ opening and the carefree sailor’s tune.

I am not sure what is being depicted with ‘Yvette: la Dieppoise’. This is the most rustic movement in the suite – complete with pipe, drum and tambourine. There is a succession of attractive tunes for a variety of woodwind instruments, and then a reflective moment before the main dance theme is recapitulated. This is quite serious music, however the sense of wistfulness soon returns and the movement concludes in the same mood as it began. It certainly seems to conjure up an era long before the Golden Arrow began running the London to Paris cross-channel service. Dieppe was subject of considerable military activity during the Second World War including the ill-fated attack by the 2^nd Canadian Infantry Division who suffered many casualties and failed to gain all their objectives. Undoubtedly, Yvette is a ‘type’ of a lady who had enjoyed happier times.

The last movement is the most impressive: certainly, it is the most dramatic. After a romantic opening, worthy of a contemporary film-score, the music moves up a gear to reflect the Café life of Paris. However, the mood is sometimes challenged by more profound phrases in the brass section. This is not all about ‘gaîté’ and ‘joie de vivre’. At the mid-point of the movement, Lutyens lets down her hair. This is the Paris of Jacques Offenbach – complete with ‘can-can’ dancers. Even so, there is still time for the lovers to stroll down the Champs Elysses. The movement concludes with a reflective glance back across the years to less-frivolous history.

The score of En Voyage was published circa 1965 by Mills Music, London.  This was a photocopy of the composer’s manuscript.

Performance & Reception

En Voyage was first heard at the BBC’s Light Music Festival Concerts on 2 July 1960.  This was one of a series of five weekly concerts given at the Royal Festival Hall between 4 June and 2 July.  It was played by the BBC Concert Orchestra conducted by Vilem Tausky. Lutyens’ suite featured in an ‘all-British’ night alongside works performed by the Max Jaffa Trio, Owen Brannagan and Osian Ellis.  Lutyens was not pleased with the BBC for including music that she felt was untypical of her output.  At this time the Corporation was consistently rejecting her ‘serious’ chamber music as being ‘unacceptable for broadcasting.’  To a certain extent, one can have sympathy for the composer. Other music given first performances during the Festival included Sidney Torch’s Duel for Drummers, John Gardner’s Suite of Five Rhythms, Peter Yorke’s Suite for Brass Band and Brian Boydell’s Shielmartin Suite.

I feel that Harries & Harries (1989) are a little unfair in their evaluation of En Voyage. They begin by suggesting that this is ‘red-herring music’: it is ‘traditional pictorial music slightly on the skew.’  The reasons that they advance for this ‘skew’ are in my opinion features of the work that add to its charm. For example, they suggest that the music is ‘constantly missing beats, or allowing ‘the bottom to drop out of the harmony.’ They consider that the work is both ‘poignant and unsatisfactory’ and accuse it ‘of building towards grand climaxes which never arrive, always hitting the nail slightly off centre and driving it in at an angle.’ Surely, these idiosyncrasies make this a first-rate piece of ‘light music’ and not one that simply utilises a number of tried and tested clichés.

There has been little critical comment about En Voyage: I was unable to find any reviews in contemporary newspapers or journals.

However, there have been a number of favourable remarks made about the Lyrita recording. Andrew Achenbach wrote in The Gramophone for August 2007 that ‘En voyage [was] a tuneful and deftly scored four-movement suite...’ Jonathan Woolf writing for MusicWeb International noted that ‘Lutyens summons up some evocative nature painting for a Channel squall vibrant gaiety as the train approaches the bright lights of Paris and a generous winding down.’  Rob Barnet, reviewing the same CD has given a more detailed account. He suggests that the first movement ‘Overture’ is reminiscent of Ronald Binge’s Elizabethan Serenade – ‘a sort of mock Tudor’ that is also found in Vaughan William’s The England of Elizabeth.  He records a number of allusions in the second movement, ‘Channel Crossing’: some of this music has ‘jazzy disruption[s] whilst there is the ‘stamping terpsichore’ of Constant Lambert...’  Finally, his description of the final movement is interesting. He suggests that ‘Paris Soir’ has a surprisingly desolate’ beginning. However, this soon develops into a ‘carousel of Parisian street-life.’  Barnett concludes by noting that in the last part of this movement, ‘Lutyens suddenly forgets the Parisian locale and comes away with a sighingly lovely and yearning grandeur looking out across the Seine’.

Perhaps this last gesture echoes the fact that the Second World War was moving into its final stage. Paris was not liberated until August 1944 so this ‘epilogue’ could be a vision of hope or a reflection on the sadness of days passed.

  
Bibliography  and Discography
Meirion Harries, Sussie Harries, A Pilgrim Soul: the Life and Work of Elisabeth Lutyens, Joseph, 1989

Box of Delights - British Light Music Gems LYRITA SRCD.214

Some British (and Commonwealth) Piano Pieces: An Interesting List

I recently bought a second-hand copy of Arthur Banyon’s Two Preludes for piano. These were published by Oxford University Press as a part of their Oxford Piano Series in 1929. More about these later. However, on the back cover the publishers have listed a selection of numbers in this series. It makes an interesting list.

Three things can be said. Firstly, none of these pieces appears to have entered the repertoire –either as a recital piece or as teaching material.  The exception is York Bowen’s Nocturne Op.78 which has found its way onto the ‘Complete Piano Works’ edition on Chandos.

Secondly, a large number of these composers have truly sunk below the radar – even of enthusiasts of British Music.  The [half] remembered composers include Martin Shaw, Edgar Bainton, Harry Farjeon, Martin Shaw and Benjamin Burrows. However, what happened to Ethel Boyce, Eric Mareo (New Zealand)and Michael Mullinar?  Jane Joseph was a pupil of Gustav Holst, yet no one really knows any of her music.

Thirdly, some of these composers were prolific. Certainly, an investigation of Norman Demuth and Harry Farjeon would repay the effort. Although I noticed that Mareo and Boyce have dozens of entries in the music catalogues.

I present the list without further comment.

Edgar L. Bainton: White Hyacinth

Arthur Banyon: Wayside Pictures Set I & Set II

York Bowen: Nocturne

Ethel Boyce: Cinderella Book 1 & 2

Benjamin Burrows: Chimes

Harold Clark: Five Lyrics

Norman Demuth: Rigaudon; Reverie

Percival Driver: Three Pieces

Harry Farjeon Invention & Pavan

Ralph Greaves: Miniature Suite

Jane Joseph: Suite of Five Pieces

E. Markham Lee: Ten Little Pieces

Eric Mareo:  Storyettes

Michael Mullinar: Grimm’s Fairy Tales

Martin Shaw: In the Garden; The Path through the Wood; Follow my Leader; The Winter Evening; Puppets; Round Dance.

Gordon Slater:  Three Little Pieces; Bouree in A; Rhapsody in B flat

Felix Swinstead: Two-Part Invention

Colin Taylor: Capriccieto; Powder & Patches

Percy Turnbull:  Piano Suite

Ernest Walker: Prelude in e flat

Gerrard Williams: Four Traditional Tunes; Scottish Traditional Tunes

Jonathan Harvey: Correspondances for mezzo-soprano & piano (1975).

I recently had the pleasure of reveing an album of British Song featuring  Meriel Dickinson (mezzo soprano) and Peter Dickinson (piano). The CD included works by Lennox Berkeley, Gordon Crosse, Jonathan Harvey, Elisabeth Lutyens and Peter Dickinson.

However, from this particular listener’s point of view, the hardest work to come to terms with was Jonathan Harvey’s Correspondances (1975). These are settings of four poems by the French poet Charles Baudelaire (1821-67).  The songs are separated by a number of interludes and fragments for solo piano. The ‘novelty’ of this work is that it is left up to the performers to decide which particular order the songs are sung. Just let us hope that pianist and singer agree before the recital!  Harvey has intellectualised this ‘aleatory’ process by suggesting that it is ‘variable, just as in Baudelaire new life may precede or succeed death, and life and death are both contained in love…’  

The ‘blurb’ in the Arkiv CD catalogue states that Jonathan Harvey can be ‘thought of as an English Stockhausen’. I would need to hear more of his music to decide if this is a true or fair assessment. Certainly, based on the present offering, his style seems to be more approachable than the German ‘meister.’ Much of this song-cycle is moving and often quite beautiful. Baudelaire’s poetry has never been a favourite of mine: it is dark, ‘satanic’ and often depressing. However, as Paul Verlaine wrote, [Baudelaire’s poetry represent[s] powerfully and essentially modern man in all his physical, psychological and moral complexity.’ He is a poet that transcends the stylistic hiatus between ‘romanticism’ and ‘modernism.’ Harvey’s music is distinctly modern with its emphasis on symbol and suggestion – however there is a strong infusion of the more romantic qualities of emotion and straightforward musical statements. Whatever my personal tastes are, there is no doubt that one is in the presence of a masterpiece with Correspondances.  I understand that this was Harvey’s first recorded piece.

Jonathan Harvey’s Correspondances can be heard on the Heritage Label (HTGCD240) with Meriel Dickinson and Peter Dickinson

Antony Hopkins: Café des Sports – a contemporary review in Ballet Today.

As part of my interest in Antony Hopkins ballet score Café des Sport I found this review in the Ballet Today journal. This well-respected magazine appears to have folded in the early nineteen-seventies. Peter Craig-Raymond gives a succinct appreciation of this ballet. Once again, it is considered good in parts. What does seem to be a consistent feature of these reviews is the superb character of the ‘Urchin’ created by Maryon Lane.  Compared to a ballerina such as Margot Fonteyn or even Moira Shearer, Lane appears to have sung beneath the radar.

Ominously titled, Alfred Rodrigues’ new ballet for Sadler’s Wells Theatre Ballet lived up to expectations. It should be recorded here, in advance, that Rodrigues gave us blood Wedding – that first work so full of choreographic promise.

Deciding that its successor must be a comedy is admissible. Even that it be facetious. But why must English comic ballet be set in the pre-depression era? Do all of us live in the perpetual paranoia of the twenties?

Café des Sports concerns an Urchin’s love for the Lame Dog who is losing a bicycle race. Urchin replaces Lame Dog and wins race, grand prix sash and L.D. as lover. Betwixt times come some bourgeoisie, a group of existentialist (i.e. girls in long wigs) and essentialist (not so long), a waiter (straight from Deuil en 24 heures) and a café proprietor whom I thought would surely lead the ensemble in a rousing can-can-finale. She did not.

Apart from this single virtue, there is little more to say for this Cafe des Sports. For Maryon Lane it is an excellent, further opportunity to show her gamin presence and zestful technique. For the remainder of the company it is a romp.

Décor and costumes are simple but fitting, designed by Jack Taylor. Antony Hopkins’ music is circa Ferde Groffe and George Gershwin and only needed Paul Whiteman and eighty-six grand pianos to complete its archaism. And the orchestra excelled itself by reading ‘blues’ as ‘dirge’ and having a trumpeter who confirmed my worst fears or what a pit bandsman can achieve.

The ballet as a whole is thin-lipped Petit spiced by rather gawky sex. I found it a major disappointment and spent the evening mourning for a man who choreographed a superb first ballet called Blood Wedding. 

The audience, and I say this as much in judgement as in truth, found the ballet uproarious and greeted the entrance of the cyclists with cheers and laughter no less than six times. It is upon such foundations as this that the English find their love of sport and the aliens fond themselves with fixed furrows on their brows.

Peter Craig-Raymond Ballet Today January  1955 (With minor edits) p4

David Dubery: Composer’s Update

About this time last year, I reviewed an exciting retrospective CD called ‘Songs & Chamber Music’ by David Dubery. I was impressed by nearly every track. Since then I have heard a couple of other pieces of his music. The first, Oberon’s Delight for oboe and string quartet, was at a concert in Wilmslow celebrating counter-tenor James Bowman’s 70th birthday.  This is a well-considered piece reflecting the character of Oberon as realised by Bowman in Benjamin Britten’s Midsummer Night’s Dream.  The second was in a recent 2-CD exploration of Antony Hopkins’ music: Dubery had contributed a short piece to Eight Tributes to Antony Hopkins, which was presented to the composer in 2011. These were gifted by eight contemporary composers including Gordon Crosse, David Ellis and Anthony Gilbert.  Dubery’s contribution was the ‘delicious’ ‘Evening in April’ for soprano, recorder and piano. This work is based on a poem by Douglas Gibson from his collection The Singing Earth. It is a heart-achingly beautiful piece of music.

Biographically, three things need to be borne in mind about David Dubery. Firstly, he was born in Durban in South Africa in 1948 and in 1961 he came to his mother’s home town of Manchester. Secondly, from an early age he composed music and was a junior at the Northern School of Music from1964-66. He subsequently studied there as an undergraduate until 1970 and followed this with a post-graduate year specializing in piano accompaniment. His performing career is that of accompanist working in the fields of stage and broadcasting.

And lastly, from a compositional point of view, he works with a traditional musical language that is always approachable, but is sometimes demanding. He prefers to compose miniatures rather than large scale pieces, however amongst the songs and the chamber pieces there are a few music-theatre pieces such as Once upon an Ark and an American styled musical called Love Lines. Although there is no symphony, (yet) there are a number of concerted works and tone poems.

Dubery has told me that there have been some excellent reviews of his CD in the British and American press. David DeBoor Canfield in the Fanfare Magazine states that this ‘disc is a delight from beginning to end’. He suggests that the composer ‘writes in a style that is both immediately accessible and richly rewarding. The lyricism of this very tonal music is underpinned by harmonies that are imaginative and unexpected’. D. Moore commenting in the American Record Guide notes that Dubery’s ‘music has a traditional flavour to it...’ and that his ‘... idiom is romantic at heart with a leaning towards jazz.’

On 13 July 2012 the RTE Lyric fm radio station broadcast a number of tracks from the ‘Songs & Chamber Music’ album on the Paul Herriot Lyric Concert. It is still available as a podcast.

In my review of Dubery’s CD, I wrote that the masterpiece (in my opinion) was the Cello Sonata. This work was originally written for double bass and piano, however that work was seemingly abandoned. The Sonata in its present form was completed in 2006 and lasts for about eleven minutes. It is in three movements. This is a lyrical work that sits fairly and squarely in a late twentieth century tradition of music that does not greatly challenge the listener with issues of musical language, but certainly makes demands on their emotional engagement. The heart of the work is the deeply felt ‘lento’ – which is both profound and moving. The composer suggests that this music was inspired by a tramp across the hills above Varenna, near Lake Como in Italy. I felt that there was not a bar of this piece that is not interesting, enjoyable and satisfying. In addition, I concluded by believing that this was an important Cello Sonata that must surely enter the repertoire. This importance has been recognised in two future performances of this work. These are on 11 October 2012 at St Olave’s Church, Hart Street and on 25 October 2012 in ‘London and Music’ at St Pancras’ Lunchtime Music series. The performers will be the distinguished cellist Felicity Vincent with pianist Richard Black.

New compositions from Dubery’s pen include a Sonata for Recorder & Piano due to be recorded for CD release in a collection of Sonatas by the end of August 2012. The performers will be John Turner (recorder) with Harvey Davies (piano). The CD should be available in 2013.

Four Escapades (which also featured on his CD in an arrangement for recorder, bassoon and piano) will be published in 2013 by Emerson Wind Music. This will be in a version for flute, bassoon & piano with optional recorder. I felt that the flute edition would ultimately be more satisfying. Escapades (2008) originally had the bassoonist Graham Salvage in mind. The musical idea is to present material as a conversation or dialogue between all three players. The suite has great variety, with an opening movement of considerable metrical change; the second is a bit hard-edged and has ‘oriental’ overtones. The third is a rhapsody of some beauty, whilst the final movement is a neo-classical dance.

Finally, information has been received that a USA premiere of Sonetti d’amore, that was written for, and performed by James Bowman, will take place in Chicago next April (2013). The soloists have yet to be announced.

Percy Fletcher: Choral and Organ Music

I regularly play Percy Fletcher’s Parisian Sketch No. 2 ‘Bal Masque’ on the piano. It is the sort of piece that sounds impressive without really stressing my ‘Grade 6½’. Other music by this composer is often hauled out of the ‘piano stool’ and given an occasional airing.  However, it was not until I heard his Elgar-inspired Epic Symphony for brass band that I came to realise that there is more to this composer than a string of ‘light’ musical numbers ideally suited for the ‘end of the pier’.

A few years ago I came across Fletcher’s fine ‘Festival Toccata’ (which is included on this CD).  I heard it with an innocent ear, and admitted surprise at discovering who the composer was.  So it came as a minor revelation to discover that he had also contributed an important (if not major) cantata called The Passion of Christ. This is a work that transcends the usual church cantatas that used to fill the choir cupboards of so many churches. It is something else to perform in Holy Week other than John Stainer’s great (but hackneyed) The Crucifixion.  

A few brief notes on the composer may be of interest. Percy Eastman Fletcher was born on 12 December 1879 in Derby. His father was a professor of music and his mother was competent on the violin, piano and church organ.  Fletcher naturally learnt much from his parents, but then continued with a private musical education before moving to London. There he worked at a variety of theatres including the Savoy, Drury Lane and The Prince of Wales. For some seventeen years he was musical director at His Majesty’s Theatre in the Haymarket.  His works composed at this time included  completing the score of Frederic Norton’s Chu Chin Chow, writing a sequel called Cairo  and then The Good Old Days which ran at the Gaiety theatre during 1926.

Other compositions included a variety choral music including interesting sounding pieces such as The Walrus and the Carpenter, The Enchanted Island and The Shafts of Cupid. The library catalogues show a great deal of songs and ballads.  I have noted the Epic Symphony; however he did compose other pieces for that medium including Labour and Love.

It is a well-known aphorism that Percy Fletcher wrote more ‘light’ orchestral suites than the better-known Eric Coates. Certainly there seems to be plenty to explore amongst such titles as Six Cameos for a Costume Comedy, Rustic Revels, Sylvan Scenes, Woodland Pictures, Three Frivolities and At Gretna Green. I await an album of some of these pieces from an enterprising record company!

Percy Fletcher, although working on London, lived in Farnborough in Hampshire for many years. He died from of a cerebral haemorrhage in Holloway Sanatorium, Virginia Water on 10 September 1932.

The present CD includes music that is a million miles away from the ‘end of the pier.’  The opening ‘Festal Offertorium’ is a case in point. This is a big, gutsy piece that deserves to take its place alongside organ music by Harwood, Stanford and Harris as a powerful and confident example of the Edwardian style. I am not convinced that the dating of this piece is necessarily correct. I believe that it could be earlier than 1926 when it was published in an album of organ pieces. 

I loved the ‘Prelude, Interlude and Postlude’, Op.27 which dates from 1910. This is a truly gorgeous piece. It does seem to be easier to play than some of the big war horses presented on this CD. However, they are well written, with lovely tunes that are never dull.

The ‘Grand Choeur Triomphale’ is another great piece for using as a recessional. It is a rousing piece that fairly romps along; however there are considerable contrasts between the different sections of ‘choeur’ and these are well reflected in the organ registration.  It also dates from 1910.  The ‘Andante con Moto’ is really a hymn tune prelude: however the liner notes omits to say which tune! It is a lovely piece that is full of spine-tingling harmonies and beautiful voicings on the organ.

The last of the organ works is the relatively well-known ‘Festival Toccata’. This piece was published by Novello in an album called A Wedding Bouquet. Even I have had a go at this – however with very little success. It is an impressive piece that should take its place with the great ‘toccatas’ of the world. To my ear it is certainly as good as Gigout or Whitlock’s better-known examples. The work was composed in 1915 and was dedicated to Edwin Lemare – composer and sometime organist of Sheffield Parish Church (now the Cathedral)

The main event on this CD is the above mentioned cantata The Passion of Christ. This work dates from 1922. Philip Scowcroft, who writes the excellent liner notes, suggests that this ‘is one of those shortish sacred cantatas designed for smaller, perhaps less-experienced church choirs.’ I agree with him that there were hundreds of these products – I seem to recall something by a chap from Warrington called T. Mee Patison (The Miracles of Christ?) being sung at my Parish Church back in the nineteen seventies. It was a wee bit average.

The mood of Fletcher’s Passion is unbelievably far away from the ‘Bal Masque’ and the orchestral suites. There is nothing ‘light’ or ‘whimsical’ about this well-wrought, deeply felt exploration of Christ’s sufferings. The obvious referential marker is Sir Edward Elgar; however, I agree with Scowcroft when he warns us not to expect another Gerontious. The work is scored for chorus and organ with soprano, tenor and bass/baritone solos.  Fletcher has made use of congregational hymns; however he has followed Bach’s practice of using pre-existent tunes. They are heard here in Fletcher’s arrangement.

I enjoyed this Passion. There are many passages that are exquisitely beautiful. It is a deliberately introverted and hugely spiritual offering that deserves the occasional revival.

The CD has been well-produced with good sound quality reflecting the atmosphere of St. Ann’s Church in Manchester. The liner notes, as I have already mentioned are by Philip Scowcroft and are excellent – if a little short on information on the organ pieces. The words of the Passion are given in full. The booklet also includes a detailed profile of Ronald Frost B.Mus., FRCO., FRMCM., FRSCM., FGCM., FNMSM., FRSA and a shorter note about Philip Asher the current Pilling Organ Scholar at St. Ann’s Church. Asher plays the organ for the Passion.

Of importance to all organ enthusiasts is the essential history of the instrument, complete with fact and figures and the all important ‘spec’.  I have noted before the organ was not constructed by a Mancunian firm, but the Salfordian Glyn & Parker in 1730.  Such distinctions are important in ‘Lancashire.’ (I loathe to say Greater Manchester).

The St Ann’s Singers are largely drawn from the ranks of the regular church choir. They have devoted themselves to much music making in the Manchester area and have recently given performances of Fauré’s Requiem, and works by Elgar and Bairstow.

Finally, the booklet includes a useful discography of Dunelm's Organ Recordings.  Many are on the present instrument in St. Ann’s however Frost has also been active in other Lancastrian and Derbyshire churches. 

This is a CD that deserves success. It has bravely explored uncharted territory with The Passion of Christ: the organ pieces by Fletcher are not available together on any other CD.  I concede I have a soft spot for St Ann’s Church for a variety of personal and family reasons; however it is good to see this pillar of Manchester music-making contributing to the revival of one the lesser-known composers of the first half of the twentieth century.

Track Listing:

Percy Eastman FLETCHER (1879-1932)

Festal Offertorium (1926) Prelude, Interlude and Postlude, Op.27 (1910) Grand Choeur Triomphale (1910) Andante con Moto (1927?) Festival Toccata (1915) Ronald Frost (organ)

The Passion of Christ (1922)

The St. Ann Singers/Ronald Frost, Philip Asher (organ)
DUNELM RECORDS DRD0260
With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review first appeared.

Erik Satie: Le Piccadilly for piano

Many years ago I came across the music for Le Piccadilly in a friend’s piano stool. Whilst not being exactly an easy piece to get one’s fingers around, it is relatively straightforward. Soon I was enjoying playing (badly) one of the most delightful miniatures in the repertoire.  It is a cabaret piece which is essentially written as a ‘rag’ and was found in the composer’s notebooks beside many other similar pieces. I understand, however, that only this one and La diva de l’Empire has actually be realised and published.  The All Music guide suggests that this piece was the result of the composer’s absorption of the ‘Parisian vogue’ for the ‘cakewalk’ around the turn of the 20^th century. 

On paper the march is straightforward – there is no complex formal structure – just a good old-fashioned bit of ternary writing – preceded by a short 4-bar introduction. The work is written on the key of F major and modulates to the subdominant, B flat major for the middle section. It has been suggested that Satie was influenced by the Howard and Emerson song ‘Hello! My Baby.’

Le Piccadilly was probably composed around 1904 and was originally performed by Paulette Darty, who at that time was a famous music hall star in Paris.  Four or five years later, Debussy made his two contributions to the genre –‘The Golliwog’s Cakewalk’ (L113) and ‘Le Petit nègre’ (L114) – both of which are part of the repertoire of many concert pianists.

Mary E. Davis in her book Erik Satie has suggested that although the title of the piece seems to have been influenced by things British, it was originally called La Trans-atlantique. Whatever the inspirations it is music that would have been just as popular in the music halls of the West End as it would have been in the cafés of Paris.

Listen to Erik Satie’s Le Piccadilly performed by Mari Tsuda on YouTube

Eric Coates: Footlight Waltz

Footlights Waltz was composed in the early part of 1939 however, the original title of the piece was apparently Behind the Footlights.   The first broadcast performance was given by the BBC Orchestra conducted by the composer on 9 June of the same year. The Times newspaper mentions this radio concert in its ‘broadcast’ page – alongside a reference to a commentary on the Richmond Horse Show and a reconstruction of the trial of the Glasgow Cotton Spinners in 1838. The relay was at 6pm and followed Children’s Hour which featured E. Nesbit’s The Phoenix and the Carpet.

Earlier in 1939 Eric Coates and his family had moved from Chiltern Court to Berkeley Court – as Geoffrey Self puts it, from one side of Baker Street to the other. At that time Coates son had recently left Stowe School and was studying in Paris.  It was also a time when the composer ‘took up his journalistic pen’ and wrote a letter to the Evening News decrying the prejudice against so-called light music.

Recent work by the composer  had included the ballet The Enchanted Garden, the Seven Seas March and the three songs to texts by Christopher Hassall, 'You are my Rose', 'Your Name' and Princess of the Dawn.  The romance Last Love was to follow.

Footlights Waltz is the third of only three concert waltzes that the composer wrote: the other two are Sweet Seventeen and Dancing Night. It is possibly the most successful.  

After an opening flourish on a pedal notes which hints at tunes to be presented in the main waltz the music opens with a characteristic ‘tempo di valse allegro. However this music is soon pushed out of the way by a succession of short sections carrying on the interest of the music. There is a lovely cantabile melody which is typically 'Coatesian'. After a short Bridge passage the composer represents three of the most important themes. The work closes with an attractive coda which recalls one of the less important themes of the work.

This piece was surely a wistful reflection on Coates time working in the theatre. Rob Barnett on MusicWeb International has deemed it ‘dreamy, silvery and conveys that floating effortlessness so typical of the Coates magic’.

Footlights Waltz can be heard on number of CDs including Marco Polo 8.223521 and Lyrita SRCD213 

Antony Hopkins: Café des Sports in the Ballet Annual 1956

I recently posted about the ballet Café des Sports and suggested that it may be worthy of a revival – at least in its ‘concert’ or ‘suite’ versions. Since then I have discovered a few more references to the work in the contemporary journals. It would appear that it received rather mixed reviews – with the emphasis being on ‘why did the choreographer bother’ and some negative comparisons with his then masterpiece, Blood Wedding. However, the music is never panned and the suggestion seems to be that kit is a good pastiche – but more about that later. Meanwhile I append the review from the Ballet Annual 1956.  I include a few notes as some of the ‘players’ and their ‘works’ may not be familiar to all readers. I apologies to all ballet lovers for deigning to give Fokine’s dates!

Comedy is the most difficult of all moods to convey in ballet. Fokine [1] was never tired of underlining that fact. It is borne out by the repertoire of the last twenty-five years. Le Beau Danube, Les Rendezvous, Deuil en 24 Heures and Pineapple Poll are truly light-hearted; Façade has a bite to it; Wedding Bouquet is a comedy masterpiece of ballet. [2]

There are many reasons for this difficulty in creating comedy. Ballet is an art of the highly organised, comedy calls for apparent mishaps.  Characterisation in ballet, with rare exceptions, is strictly limited to variations on the stock figures of Italian comedy and, in situation, to such obvious tricks as the human acting as a puppet and the puppet as human.

Alfred Rodrigues, [3] choreographer of the present ballet, is one of our most promising choreographers. He has a fine sense of drama (Blood Wedding) and a great sense of humour (Airs on a Shoe-String). [4] But ballet does not depend on the choreographer alone- it is high time that this was realised. The choreographer is wedded to his librettist, his composer and his designer.

Antony Hopkins has written a consciously clever but never really gay score. It has some amusing quotations and some, The Funeral March for instance, is trite and in doubtful taste. The music might have supported a satirical approach, never a light-hearted frolic. And what is the whole thing about? Why in fact was it set in France at all? Once can only surmise that this was because France seems ever so gay in English eyes and that all foreigners are comic. Oh, la, la, Oh, la, la!  And the scenery by Jack Taylor [5] smacks of Lancashire rather than Southern France, while the costumes are nondescript. It is to Rodrigues’ credit that he has been able to draw from this unpromising material some flashes of comic invention, and his cast, Maryon Lane in particular, excelled themselves; they nearly made bricks without straw.

The Tour de France is a Roland Petit [6] subject but then not only would Petit know and feel the atmosphere, he would be assisted by the finest composers, designers and librettists who knew what they wanted, a frolic à la Tati [7] or a satire. To poke fun at existentialism [8] in 1954 is completely pointless.

Ballet Annual 1956 

Notes:

[1] Fokine Michel (1880-1942), choreographer and dancer: born in Russia and regarded as the originator of modern ballet. He worked with Diaghilev as director of the Ballet Russe (1909-15), producing works such as Les Sylphides and Petrushka

[2] Le Beau Danube, choreographed by Leonide Massine, music by Johann Strauss arranged by Roger Desormière, first performed 17 May 1924;

Les Rendezvous choreographed by Frederick Ashton, music by Auber arranged by Constant Lambert, first performed 5 December 1933;

Deuil en 24 Heures, choreographed by Roland Petit, music by Maurice Thiriet, first performed in 1933;

Pineapple Poll, choreographed by John Cranko, music by Arthur Sullivan arranged by Charles Makerras, decor by Osbert Lancaster, first performed 13 March 1951;

Façade, choreographed by Frederick Ashton, music by William Walton, first performed 26 April 1946.

A Wedding Bouquet, choreographed by Frederick Ashton, music by Lord Berners, first performed 27 April 1937.

[3] Alfred Rodrigues (1921- 2002). South African born dancer and choreographer.  He came to London in 1946 where he studied with Volkova and danced in the musical Song of Norway. A year later he joined Sadler's Wells Ballet, becoming soloist in 1949 and ballet master (1953-4). He choreographed his first ballet in 1938, going on to create, among others, Blood Wedding (mus. ApIvor, Sadler's Wells Theatre Ballet, 1953), The Miraculous Mandarin (mus. Bartók, Royal Ballet, 1956), Romeo and Juliet (mus. Prokofiev, La Scala, 1955), Vivaldi Concerto (Royal Danish Ballet, 1960), and Le Sacre du printemps for Warsaw Grand Opera. He also choreographed for several musicals. The Oxford Dictionary of Dance.  

4] Blood Wedding, ballet in one act, choreographed by Alfred Rodrigues, music by Denis ApIvor, first performed 5 June 1953.

Airs on a Shoestring was an ‘intimate revue’ devised by Laurier Lister and given at the Royal Court Theatre, London on 22 April, 1953. The cast included Moyra Fraser, Betty Marsden, Sally Rogers, Carole Newton, Patricia Lancaster, Eileen Price, Max Adrian, Bernard Hunter, Jack Gray, Denis Quilley, Charles Ross and Peter Reeves. The musical numbers were staged by Alfred Rodrigues.

[5] Jack Taylor, designer working at Sadler’s Wells in the nineteen-fifties.

[6] ‘à la Tati’ – in the manner of Jaques Tati (1907-1982) French comedy actor and film director

[7] Existentialism is ‘a chiefly 20th century philosophical movement embracing diverse doctrines but centering on [an] analysis of individual ‘existence’ in an unfathomable universe and the plight of the individual who must assume ultimate responsibility for acts of free will without any certain knowledge of what is right or wrong or good or bad’. Merriam Webster.